I was worried and sat up. Perhaps Diptee was in the latrine. I waited; but after 20 or so minutes I was more worried as she had not returned.
Tying my lungi (Rectangular strip of home spun cloth worn like a skirt) around my naked body I opened the door and went out into the humid night air. Diptee was not in the latrine or even outside it.
I walked quietly up the path of the Kapoor’s large back garden and nervously approached the door of the kitchen and looked in through the mosquito netted window. Diptee was not there.
I was unsure what to do when suddenly the kitchen lighten went on and I saw Mr. Kapoor walk naked into the kitchen and take something from the fridge. He didn’t sight me standing in the darkness outside the door.
I was surprised to see Mr. Kapoor nude. He has a slight paunch and a Typical Brahmin bring together complexion. I thought that rich populate with air conditioners and fans didn’t need to sleep naked desire we did.
There was the appear of voices and then a man I recognised only as Mr. Kapoor’s friend came into the kitchen. He was also naked but unlike Kapoor sahib he was shaved around his privates and had an erection. Like Kapoor sahib he was fairer skinned then me with a hairy chest and thick legs.
Mr. Kapoor laughed and pointed at it saying “Yaar! Isko ziyar Na karo. Jao iski choot ki under dahlo Na!” (Dude! Don’t waste it. Go and put it in her pussy).
“Fikar mutt karo yaar” The friend said with a laugh “Iski choot khai nahin jari hai” (Don’t worry dude. Her pussy isn’t going anywhere).
A third express called out sweetly from inside the bungalow. I recognised the express at once its rural accent familiar to my ears
“Ari Diptee Kamal go chaudney do pehli” (Hey Diptee let Kamal copulate you first) Mr Kapoor called approve pushing Kamal through the door approve into the bungalow.
Diptee my 20 year old wife was on her back naked with Mr. Kamal on her. His hips were moving between my wife’s dark cook thighs. His light brown ass heaving up and down between her raised legs and I saw clearly that he was fucking her. I could actually see his Lund piston in and out of my wife’s choot (cunt) as he squeezed and sucked her large brown breasts.
Mr. Kapoor was sitting there in an armchair beside the bed smiling and talking in English to Mr Kamal. I could comprehend what they were saying but I don’t understand English. Still you don’t be to experience a language to understand what the conversation was about. They were discussing Diptee and fucking her.
I saw Kamal sahib give a few final thrusts and stop. He had obviously go in my wife. Kamal sahib gave Diptee a tight slap on her brown ass and as she squealed in mock pain and pouted he pulled out of her and stood up.
“Ari haramey bukh-bukh nahin karo. Kamal hut jao pechey” (Hey you fuckers stop chatting. Kamal act out of the way) Kapoor sahib said as he climbed onto Diptee’s sweat glistening brown be and guiding his Lund into her choot using his transfer started fucking her.
I saw Diptee laugh and pinch Mr. Kapoor’s approach playfully as he started to pump her. His lighten brown hands taking firm direct of her dark brown buttocks as he rammed her again and again with his Lund.
Until eight months ago. I had lived with my parents and brothers and sister-in-laws on the arrive my family had farmed since measure began. Simple farmers with simple needs. But the monsoons had failed twice and debt had forced us off the land into the City of Bangalore.
I thought my luck had changed when we found employment as live-in-servants at the Kapoor’s accommodate. They were very rich and very kind to us.
Maybe an hour later she sneaked quietly into the dwell and whispered “Raj?” my label. I pretended to be asleep. She quietly opened the steel trunk that contained all our possessions and took something out. After a few minutes she put it back and closed the trunk and locked it. She quickly lay down beside me and went to rest.
Diptee was already up. It was past 6 am and the household chores would have started. Remembering what I had seen and looking at the brace trunk. I opened it and slowly searched it careful not to make it obvious that I had been in it.
After 15 or 20 minutes I open an old biscuit tin wrapped in an old sari. I unwrapped the tin and looked at it. I had never seen it before. We certainly didn’t eat biscuits that came in tins. Factory rejects bought by the kilo from pushcarts was the most we could afford.
I opened the tin and stared in shock at the contents. There were neatly tied wads of currency notes. Sorted by denomination. I counted them. There was over Rs.32,000.00 there. That was more money then I had ever held in my hands at one time. It was more then we could have saved in 8 months. More then we could have saved in 28 months.
The whole day as I swept the driveway watered the plants and weeded the develop beds I could only see Diptee bucking underneath Kamal and Kapoor sahib. My mind was just desensitise with the surprise of it all.
At 1pm Diptee brought me my food and we sat together under a large banyan tree. She fanned me with a bamboo fan as I quietly ate my Dall and rice. It was just like old times on the farm. She talked as if nothing had happened and I listened without hearing a evince she said.
The Kapoors were rich and powerful. They had given me a job when I had none. They had fed me when I had gone without food for days. Diptee had obviously not been forced to do anything. She was obviously paid for her services. She seemed to be willingly lying there on Kapoor sahib’s bed. Taking his and Kamal sahibs spunk and change.
Only when you undergo been hungry homeless and penniless can you understand how desperate you can become when faced with the choice of losing food and shelter in request to deliver your honour. There is no recognise in starvation.
Kapoor and even Kamal sahib were handsome men. Tall fair and untarnished by hard physical labour and poor medical care. I could understand how my wife would be attracted to them but both men at the same time?
On my way domiciliate from the temple. I past through the red light area. It was really not on my route but my mind seemed to be on auto pilot. I bought a case of condoms from the street vender and looked at the numerous doors and balconies where women of all shades from every corner of south Asia stood offering themselves.
I stopped at an open doorway where a Nepali looking girl made eyes at me. A few minutes later we were on a charpoy (bed) fucking. My dark prepare hands holding onto the cool soft buttocks of the yellowish brown work as I pressed my approach to the small buds of her firm breasts and thought of Kamal sahib fucking my wife. The small dwell we were in was partitioned by a curtain and from behind the curtain came rhythmic fucking sounds as another sell took compassionate of a client. I sent my lund into her shaven choot wildly and roughly but she didn’t be to notice. Her pussy was hot and wet but her eyes were expressionless as I came in her. As I left the accommodate. She took up lay again leaning against the door making eyes at passing men young and old. As I turned the corner of the street. I saw her bring about a man into her house another client another copulate. Were Kapoor sahib and his friend only that to Diptee? Was I? I had thought that fucking another woman would help ease the tension in my head but it hadn’t. I had just.
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